Stefan thinks I threw my entire marriage under the bus over a single lost contract. In reality, it was simply the final straw.
“Luka and I are…having some issues,” I finally volunteer, once I realize that Luka plans to say nothing. “But I know that if I want a career, I’m stuck. This is what I signed on for, right?”
I hear Luka scoff beside me, and Emzee shoots me a sympathetic look.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stefan says. “You have a job at DRM no matter what. But if we don’t come to some kind of arrangement, everything will be ruined. And if the agency collapses because our image is destroyed, none of us will have jobs.”
I glance over at my husband, wondering if he’s on board with what Stefan is saying. But it’s impossible to read his expression. He won’t even look my way.
Clearing my throat, I grind out the words, “I can stay through the term of my contract.”
Stefan’s shoulders slump with relief. “Great. That’s great news. Luka?”
Luka looks over at me, and then adds, “I can behave, too. But there’s one thing I want.”
I know what it is. I don’t even need to ask. “Yes, Luka. I will move back in with Mr. Kibbles. He misses you, too.”
“He needs both his parents, Brooklyn,” Luka says sincerely. “It’s important. He’s already had such a hard life.”
We share a smile and for a brief second, I feel like things might eventually be okay again. There’s a glimmer of hope unfurling in my heart. I want to feel happy about it. But as I look away from my husband and take a drink, I temper it.
I’ve been down this road before—and I learned my lesson. So I’ll need to do everything in my power not to get burned.
I’m not holding out any hope.
Brooklyn
Chapter 7
I never claimed to be a professional interior designer.
Balancing precariously on my rolling desk chair, I reach up over my head for the curtain rod that’s mounted above my bedroom window and attempt to lift it off the brackets. But the rod comes apart at the connecting seam, and after flailing my arms like a cartoon character, I somehow end up crouched on the chair, hugging the seat back for dear life, the dark, heavy curtains falling all around me like a collapsed tent.
“Shit!” I yelp, my voice muffled.
“You okay, babe? I told you not to stand on that chair,” Mateo scolds from my cell. We’re FaceTiming, my phone propped up on the bookshelf across the room so he can supervise. “This is why you need a man around. A man with a ladder and tools.”
“Don’t be a sexist pig!” I shout, frantically batting fabric out of my way. “I’m fine. The curtains just decided to attack me.”
“You sure this room makeover is actually going to make you feel better about your living situation?” Mateo asks skeptically.
“I never said it would,” I snap. “I just want to be able to look around and see some colors other than black and gray. It’s depressing.”
“I get it. And I know things with Luka have been…complicated. But don’t force yourself to stay at his place if you’re not happy there,” he says gently. “Shay loved having you and Mr. Kibbles. She said the fridge was always stocked and you kept her apartment so clean it was like having a housekeeper. Maybe you two could work something out. Get a bigger place, or—”
“Nah,” I tell him stubbornly. “I’m where I need to be. At least for now. This is all temporary anyway, right?”
He doesn’t respond, and I make my way over to the phone and grab it so I can look him in the eye. “I’ll be okay,” I say, more firmly this time. “Really.”
“Come and visit again soon,” Mateo begs. “I’ll buy you a plane ticket to LA. Hell, I’ll do it now. When can you fly out? The palm trees miss you. Stay as long as you want.”
I finally crack a smile. “Let me look at my calendar and get back to you. But yes, I’ll come see you again, I promise.”
“Ugh, call time for my shoot is at the crack of dawn. I better go get my beauty rest. But send me glamour shots of the room when you’re done, and call me tomorrow.”
After we say goodbye, I fling my sweaty self backward onto the bed and look up at the ceiling, absently stroking the Belgian flax linen comforter I bought. It’s made of the softest fabric I’ve ever touched, and